


When He Pushes Himself too far.

by OTPGirl



Series: Necromancer Curt [2]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Curt is unconscious the whole time, M/M, and Owen is not happy, but curt does survive, open end, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPGirl/pseuds/OTPGirl
Summary: Owen is sitting in his office at MI6 thinking about how weird his life is when he gets a call from Cynthia. Curt is in the infirmary and it's bad enough that she thinks Owen should be there.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Series: Necromancer Curt [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810453
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	When He Pushes Himself too far.

Owen Carvour’s life is incredibly hectic. That was, of course, to be expected with being one of, if not the, best spies in the world. But honestly? That is the most normal part of his life. 

He has a boyfriend, Curt Mega, whom he loves more than anything. That alone is incredibly dangerous, given that homosexuality is… frowned upon to put it lightly. Add on to that Curt is American, and works for the American spy agency A.S.S. Sure, England and America weren’t opponents at the moment, one might even call them allies, but that could change. 

Surprisingly, none of that was even the craziest part of Owen’s life. The craziest thing is that his lover, Curt Mega, is a necromancer. Owen just found out about this a little over a month ago during a mission where the two of them almost died. After Owen assured Curt that this didn’t change how he felt for the American. It took a few hours and much cuddling in the crappy hotel bed for Curt to tell Owen everything about his powers. 

Owen really has a problem with how A.S.S., or more specifically Cynthia, uses Curt. He thinks they manipulate Curt. And he’s worried that one day they’ll push him so far that it will kill him. Owen dreads the day he gets that phone call.

Speaking of phone calls.

The shrill ringing of the phone sitting on Owen’s desk pulls him from his musings. His eyes slide over to it, more than a little surprised that it’s actually ringing. Needless to say, it’s a highly restricted line meaning only a few people know the number for it. He learns froward and plucks the phone from the receiver with deft fingers.

“Hello?” Owen keeps his voice light as he answers, but really he’s more than a bit on edge. He’s listening for anything really, just like he’s been trained to do. 

“Owen, it’s Cynthia.” He frowns slightly at the American woman’s voice. His brow furrows slightly as he racks his brain, trying to figure out why she would be calling him. And if he ever actually gave her this number. 

“Director Huston. I must admit I am more than a bit surprised to be getting a call from you. Is there something I can help you with?” 

“It’s Mega.” That’s all it takes. Two little words and Owen’s heart drops to his feet. “He’s in bad shape, and I know the two of you are... close.” He can tell by the pause that she knows about the true nature of his and Curt’s relationship, but honestly, he can’t bring himself to care at the moment. 

“What happened?” The suave tone is completely gone; all that’s evident is panic and fear. 

“Unimportant. I’ve already spoken to your boss, and you’re on loan to us for about a month. Your plane leaves in an hour.” Owen wants to ask more questions, but if he wants to catch the flight, he has no time. 

“Understood. I’ll see you when I land.” He says in lieu of a goodbye. He places the phone back on the receiver and springs into action. 

Being a spy means that Owen has to be ready to be sent on a mission without notice. He’s learned over the years to keep a small, carry on sized bag with clothes and other such essentials. 

Owen makes it to the airport in record time and is quickly ushered through security. MI6 must have let them know that he was coming. He idly wonders what Cynthia told his boss before deciding it doesn’t matter. He gets to go to Curt, his lover in need, and that’s that matters right now. 

~

When he arrives in America, he is picked up by a car that takes him directly to A.S.S. H.Q. The man driving looks vaguely familiar. Owen is sure that he’s seen the man around A.S.S. before, and if Owen were more on top of his game, he would make idle talk with the man. Instead, he just gazed out the car window, eyes focusing on nothing. 

Cynthia is waiting for him right inside the entrance once they arrive. She’s smoking a cigarette and glaring at the far wall like it personally did something to her. As Owen approaches, her gaze sharply turns to him. If he were a man less experienced the look she is giving him would have made him freeze in his tracks. He’s not, though, so he acts as if Cynthia’s gaze isn’t as intimidating as it truly is. 

“Where is he?” Perhaps he could have started with a more pleasant greeting. However, he’s not here for pleasantries. He’s here because his lover is in such bad shape Cynthia thought it important that Owen fly all the way across the ocean. 

She blows a stream of smoke not quite in Owen’s face, but it’s close enough to make him want to cough. Or light up a cigarette himself. He does neither, knowing the game she’s playing at the moment. He simply raises an eyebrow at her. 

Cynthia drops the cigarette on the ground, smashing the bud beneath her stiletto. 

“In the infirmary. I’ll take you there.” She turns and walks away, not even waiting to see if Owen’s going to follow her. 

He does, of course.   
Owen knows that Cynthia knows that he doesn’t need to be shown where the infirmary is. Curt, and even Owen once or twice, has ended up in the infirmary so often that Owen is certain that he knows the way to the infirmary with his eyes closed. It’s clear to him that Cynthia wants to talk. 

“How much has Mega told you about his more… unique capabilities?” It’s clear by how quietly the usually loud woman is talking that even at A.S.S. Curt’s powers a secret. Owen supposes that makes sense. It’s not really something that everyone needs to know. 

“I don’t want to say I know everything, but I certainly know enough to know about the secondary assignments you give to him.” He doesn’t say how much he dislikes how they use Curt, how he feels that they manipulate him. Owen thinks back on how, when he found out Curt was worried that the British man would consider him a monster. Those thoughts had to be planted in his head by someone, and he was more than willing to bet that Cynthia had something to do with it. 

“Well, he was in the middle of one of those assignments when things started going wrong. The spirt turned violet, more violet than we’ve ever seen. Pair that with the fact the Curt was already pushing himself more than he should have.” Her voice is so calm, like one of her best agents isn’t in the infirmary because of her. 

Owen doesn’t know how to respond and thankful he’s saved from having to answer because they arrive at the infirmary. His hand reaches out to grabs the door nob, but it stops just shy of actually touching it. He takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to see. Cynthia seems to think he’s hesitating for another reason. 

“When I received word that you were five minutes out, I had them clear out the infirmary. You will have about “She looks down at her watch “twenty minutes in there with no eyes, or ears, on you.” Owen gives her a small, grateful look. His hand moves the remaining inch or so, and he opens the door. 

The second he’s in the room, his eyes land on Curt, and somehow, it is both better and worse than what Owen was preparing himself for. 

Curt is pale. So much paler than anyone who isn’t dead has any right to be. He’s hooked up to a ventilator, but unless you are looking for it, you wouldn’t be able to see the soft rise and fall of his chest as it pushes oxygen into his lungs. An IV is plugged into his vein with a clear liquid dripping in the bag, and he’s hooked up to a heart monitor. 

The only sound in the room is the whirling of the ventilator and the quiet beeping of the heart monitor, but it’s so slow that Owen can’t believe that it’s accurate. He crosses the room if a few steps and perches himself on the very edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Curt at all. He stares at the face of his lover, and his heart clenches slightly. 

There is that cliche that people tend to look younger and more relaxed when unconscious, but it’s not true. At least, it’s not true when it comes to Curt. He looks twenty years older, his skin is waxy, and his face is gaunt. His hair seems to lay flatter than usual and seemed just wrong on him. Owen can’t help himself; he reaches out and runs a few fingers through Curt’s hair, rustling it slightly. 

“Oh, Curt…” Despite knowing that no one should be listening, Owen forces himself to trail off. He wants to talk to Curt, beg him to please be okay. He wants to tell Curt that he can’t leave him like this. Most of all, he wants to tell Curt how much he loves him, how much he needs him. Those words sit in his throat, forming a lump that feels hard for him to breath around. 

Owen removes his hand from Curt’s hair and moves it to his the unconscious man’s hand. Owen scoops the limp left hand off of the infirmary bed and brings it to his mouth. His lips press against the icy cold skin, and it sends a shiver down his spine. None the less he keeps his lips there for a moment or so before slowly lowering the had back to the bed. But Owen doesn’t let go, instead his tumb begins idly rubbing back and forth across the back of Curt’s fingers. Specifically, the ring finger. 

Owen sits in silence, mind racing as he goes over what Cynthia told him. She said that Curt had been pushing himself further than he should have. Owen has a feeling that Curt pushing himself as far as he had been wasn’t necessarily his choice and that Cynthia had something to do with it. 

All too soon, a nurse comes into the infirmary. Owen hears her hand grab the doorknob, and before she’s in the room, he is sitting in the chair on the far side of the room, resting casually as if he had been there the entire time. 

“Agent Carvour! I- I didn’t realize that you were here.” The short brunet brings a hand up to brush some hair behind her ear, her eyes slide away from Owen, and she is clearly trying to fight back a blush from rising to her cheeks. Owen almost feels bad for her. It’s evident that she has a bit of a crush on him. Usually, he would flirt a bit before letting her down gently, but today he just doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he just gives her a small smile and nod. 

“I’m in town for a mission, and I had heard that Mega had somehow landed himself in the infirmary.” The nurse looks at Owen as he speaks, a soft smile on her face and a faraway look in her eyes. After a moment of her just staring at him like that, not saying anything, Owen clears her throat, and that seems to snap her out of it.

“Hmmm?” Owen looks over at Curt before looking back at her, and she seems to pick up on what he was saying, and his eyes grow wide. “Oh! Agent Meag! Right. Ummm, we’re not really sure what happened. Physically he’s fine and should be up and walking around. But he’s just… not?” She looks down at the clipboard in her hands, giving Owen a chance to let his guard down for half a second and let the worry flash across his face. By the time the girl glances back up, his face is set back in that somewhat uncaring mask. 

“I ummm, I actually have to check a few things. So I have to ask you….” She trails off, clearly hoping that Owen would pick up on her meaning, and of course, he does. He stands up, stretching his arms above his head, keeping up the act that he had been sitting in the uncomfortable chair and not next to Curt on the bed. He forces himself not to look over at Curt as he crosses the room. Right before Owen can exit the room, the nurse speaks again. 

“Agent Mega is lucky to have a friend like you.” Owen pauses, but doesn’t turn around to look at her. After trying to figure out what to say for a second, he gives up, leaving her to do whatever it is she needs to. 

Owen makes his way to Cynthia’s office, barley having to pay attention to the path. That’s not quite good. In fact, it’s a bad thing. It lets him get lost in his mind despite how short the walk it. He quickly works himself up into a boiling anger. He’s sure that Cynthia was the one who had pushed Curt much too far. It’s her fault. He knows that is.

He makes it to her office and barges in, not waiting for her to call him in as he usually would. She was speaking to another agent, but quickly dismisses him with a wave of her hand and a well-placed glare. The door is barely closed when Owen starts talking. 

“This is your fault.” He hisses, spitting venom with his words. Cynthia doesn’t seem fazed at all. She merely lights a cigarette and swings her feet up onto her desk, a perfect picture of being unworried. Her eyes, however, betray her and the panic she’s really feeling.

“What in the flippity flappity fuck are you talking about Carvour?” 

“Curt. It’s your fault that he’s in that hospital bed, isn’t it?” He’s just itching for her to lie to him, for her to give him a reason to break something. And she doesn’t disappoint him.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Her eyes dart to the side and Owen sees red, he leans forward over the desk, shoving her feet off as he does. 

“I’m not fucking stupid! Curt wouldn’t push himself past his limits like that, and we both know it. So it was you, wasn’t it?”

“Owen-”

“Don’t you dare lie to me! I know that he would do anything you ask. Because for some twisted reason, he thinks he owes you. Because you have him convinced that he is a monster due to the powers he was born with.”

Cynthia doesn’t respond, whether it’s out of shame or nervousness he Owen doesn’t know, but he sees it as cowardice. And that makes him all the angrier. 

“Mark my words Cynthia, of Curt di-” Owen can’t even say the word. “If Curt doesn’t make it, I will burn all of A.S.S. to the ground. And I’ll start with you, the head witch.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about Necromancer Curt on Tumblr.  
> Necromancercurtau  
> or  
> Ijustwantjohnmcnamaratobehappyok


End file.
